Impetuous
Impetuous is an encounter in The Battle for Krezzor. Enemies * Yellow Imp (1235 Gold, 152 XP, 95 Energy, 7 HP) * Blue Imp (1300 Gold, 160 XP, 100 Energy, 7 HP) Transcript Introduction Last night... The plain is chaos. No... There's a more apt word. Pandemonium. You've seen countless armies before -- marched with some and clashed with others. But never one quite like this. Hundreds of demons, their hides so varied in hue that they'd put a rainbow to shame, swarm and scurry, engaged in a myriad different forms of preparation for the coming battle. Fiendish warriors are sharpening their weapons, grinding swords and stropping knives into a state of supreme lethality. A few of them are testing their newly enhanced edges by splitting bovine creatures in half. A cheer greets each beast's demise, and a gaggle of imps drag the bisected carcasses towards the nearby cooking fires. Hellhounds converge on the thick trails of blood left in their wake, lapping up the viscous pinkness. But one of the larger hounds has bigger plans. He pounces on the front half of a butchered animal, bats the imps aside with his big paws, and clamps his jaws around mottled black and green flesh. Some of his pack join him, and together they drag the prize away to their part of the camp -- where great chomping and tearing ensues. A pair of hulking fiends, each perhaps two feet taller than you and thrice as wide, are locked in a wrestling clinch while their companions cheer them on. Despite their vast size and immense strength, they're grappling with science as well as sinew, seeking holds at neck and elbow, leg and waist, that you've used yourself in either sport or mortal combat. They strain and struggle for several moments, their thighs, backs, and arms bulging, until one manages to slip behind the other. He gives a great heave, thrusts with his hips, and brings his opponent crashing to the ground. Two incubi leap into his arms as he stands in triumph, and express their appreciation of his prowess with roaming tongues and fingers. To the victor the spoils... Some distance away from the grapplers and feasters, the demonic horsemen are arranged in a long row, sat atop their infernal steeds. An imp whistles, and the foremost rider urges her mount with her heels. The beast breaks into a thundering charge while she draws her curved sword. As she approaches the imp, he hurls something into the air. A muttered cantrip enhances your vision and brings it into focus. A grape... That realization comes an instant before the cavalrywoman's sword splits it in half at full gallop. On the other side of the encampment, the archers are plying their own trade. Shafts fly from bows in swift volleys, peppering Bluthkurbu's spread-eagled corpse. Some enterprising souls have stuffed his carcass, sewn it up, and painted a number of circular targets on his corpulent flesh for the bowmen to aim at -- and they're making the most of it. Tessa Tullian stands amongst them, though she isn't firing along with the others. Instead, she looks to be engaged in a heated argument with one of the demons. You're beginning to wonder whether you should go and intervene, when she snatches at the demon's neck, tearing away a necklace. He screeches and raves. But Tessa simply tosses it high overhead, puts and arrow to her bow, and fires. When the missile lands, point-first in the ground, there's a slender length of glittering gold wrapped around it. The demon gazes at this for a moment. Then he throws himself prone and kisses the toe of her boot, while she tries to push him away. "This is the army that will return me to power." "I was waiting for you to come," you say. Brachus sits beside you on slope. "Oh?" "You're going to ask us to fight in the battle, aren't you?" "Yes. You know enough of war to understand why." "The demons are strong and skilled as warriors. But they lack commanders." "That's always been the weakness of infernal legions. Without wise and cunning hands to guide them, they become little more than a murderous rabble. Sometimes that's enough. But for the battle that awaits us? No. That's why I freed Druka." "But you need good leaders on the field to make sure his stratagems are put into action." "I'm in your debt, . So I only ask, not demand." A slight grin opens his purple jaws. "There are very few beings in the universe who've ever been free to refuse me and live." "I'm touched..." For some moments you and the prince watch the grapplers and archers, horsemen and feasters. In a distant corner of the field, some of the other demons are preparing for battle in a manner so indecent you feel your cheeks reddening. Your family's military instructors thankfully never covered such things in your lessons. That would have been rather awkward... You pull your gaze away and break the silence. "Niknak said his stone wasn't powerful enough to open the portal yet." "After the battle, we can take what we need from the corpses of my enemies." How convenient, you muse. "You believe I'd make that much difference?" "I've seen you lead men and women in combat. Were you a demon, I'd regard you as a dangerous rival." "Thanks..." His bright eyes stare at you, waiting for your decision. But in truth there's no need for hesitation. You knew this moment would come, and you'd already decided what you'd say when it did. Whether it's pragmatism or hubris, you've made your choice. "I'll fight tomorrow. But I won't speak for my friends. Each of them should make their own choice." Triumph illuminates the prince's face. You both know the others won't shy away from battle. Not when they know you're taking the field. You've just pledged them to a great victory or horrific death. *** "We should escape, before they notice us!" the pink imp said. "No!" the yellow imp replied. "But-" "No!" "They'll kill us all!" "No!" Behind them, their follow imps babbled in support of the yellow interlocutor. "The Imperor is dead!" the pink imp said. "Our horde was slaughtered by that human!" "So? We still have imps!" The imps looked at one another and nodded their heads. They did indeed appear to have more imps. A couple of dozen at least. That was almost a horde... "We can't take Krezzor!" the pink imp wailed. "Other demons will smash us!" "Stupid! We'll wait till other demons kill each other. When they're all dead, Krezzor will belong to the imps!" A melange of cheers sounded from the others. It devolved into sporadic poking, shoving, and kicking. "Stop fighting!" the yellow imp said. "Save it for killing wounded demons!" "You stay and die then!" the pink imp said. "I'm going!" "Fine! No Krezzor for you! You come to Krezzor when we rule, we'll kick you off the top of the walls -- and you'll go splat!" "Splat! Splat! Splat!" the other imps chanted. The pink imp ignored them, and pushed his way through the chattering mass of demons -- bashing sundry chins, noses, and eyes in the process. "Stupid imps," he murmured. "They're the ones who'll go splat, when other demons..." At that point he emerged from the back of the horde, blinked, and gulped. The imps had stationed themselves on the very periphery of the battlefield, where they could watch and wait -- biding their time. However, it appeared that they weren't the last arrivals after all. And the human who was advancing at the head of the newcomers, with a dangerous looking sword in his hand and a blue dragon on his shield, seemed like someone the imp didn't want to encounter at close quarters. He turned his head, on the verge of screaming a warning. Then he paused and shrugged. It would serve them right... So he scurried away, while the humans and demons approached. He'd enjoy watching this from a safe distance. Conclusion "Krezzor is mine!" the yellow imp says. "I don't think so," you reply. He growls, and kicks your shin. You retaliate by hacking him in half. A distant cheer reaches you, somehow audible even over the sounds of the last imps squelching and crunching beneath your companions' weapons. You look to the horizon, where a little pink demon is standing on a rock and punching the air. He cheers again. Then he waves his hand in farewell, before dropping behind the rock and disappearing. Category:The Battle for Krezzor